Innuendos (It Had 2 B U Book 1) (22 page)

“So your parents never gave you
the talk,
huh?” she asks, picking up a party streamer.

“Obviously not,” I mumble, scooping down to pick up a piece of cake threatening to stain the carpet.

“Max, thank you for today; it was fun.”

“Breezy, you know your birthday is one of my favorite days of the year. I love making you smile.”

“You definitely did, but I have to ask, are you ever going to get me a real dog?” She asks, staring at Binx, the robot dog. That’s what she decided to name it. At least it’s not Snookums.

“Not unless you win this bet.”

“Oh, I’m so gonna win.”

“Did you know I almost invited Orlando tonight?”

She looks up at me in shock. “Why would you do a silly thing like that?”

“I thought you two were still friends,” I tell her.

“No way, he’s married with kids. I ran into him once on a lunch break. He told me all about his new wife and their five kids. He was trying to rub it in my face that we weren’t together, and he was happy.”

“He has seven kids now.”

“Seven? Holy crap is his wife’s vagina a carousel? It has to be with the amount of kids it keeps spitting out,” she says laughing. “I only want two kids—one boy and one girl. That way I can spoil them, and it won’t be a big deal to the pocketbook.”

“You’ll still spoil them even if you have more than two kids. I want three: two boys and one girl.”

“Why three?”

“I want a baby girl I can dote on, and two boys to carry on my family name.” I smile at her. Little does she know that my brain is running with thoughts of knocking
her
up and making
her
my wife.

Well, you were definitely the talk of all the girls tonight. I’m pretty sure if Sheena, Tawanya, and Monique weren’t married, they would’ve been all over your sexy ass tonight.” She admires the tight white t-shirt I have on and black slacks. Every muscle on my body is perfectly accentuated. Just the heat of her stare tells me she wants me.

“Why, Breezy, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were hitting on me.” I flutter my eyelashes and say in a perfect southern accent, “Be still my heart and call me Alfalfa, if it’s true.”

“You’re weird. I can admire a hot body when it’s standing in front of me. It’s my birthday for god’s sake.”

“Speaking of which, I can’t believe you’re older than me,” I groan.

“By two months. Big deal,” she retorts.

“It is a big deal. Did you know if you and I ever dated you would be considered a cougar?”

“You’re officially a dork. I am not a cougar if I date you. I’m only two months older than you.”

“We’d have to come up with some kind of theme song for you. She’s on the prowl; she likes them young; her pussy’s getting old so bring on the tong . . .” she covers my mouth.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop right now.”

“But I didn’t even get to the best part . . . she’s a cougar . . . C. O. U. G. A. RRRRR.” I growl the last part like a big cat and smile.

“Dork. A big fat dork. That’s what I live with.” She throws up her hands and groans.

I grab her hand and pull her into me. Her boobs hit my chest and suddenly her breathing increases, as I stare directly into her eyes. I dip down and bring my face so close to hers that I can feel her breath.

“I. Am. So. Not. Fat,” I whisper. Then I take her hand and put it under my shirt, letting her feel every abdominal muscle of my stomach. Through her palm, I swear I can feel her heart race. She lightly begins stroking my stomach, and I instantly get hard.

“Happy Birthday, Breezy,” I murmur, my lips only a millimeter away from hers. It takes everything I have not to claim her pout right there. She leans forward. For a single second, our skin makes contact through a brief brush of lips. I pull away. I have to. Otherwise, I’m going to straight up devour her—right here—right now.

“Goodnight, Max,” she says breathlessly.

“Goodnight, Breezy.”

With that, I let her go and return to my room. Screw the rules. I know she won’t catch me, so I do what any other self-respecting guy with a boner the size of New Orleans would do . . . I give my dick the best hand job I’ve ever given him in my life.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Breezy

This is fool proof to get Max to cave to my demands. After the melon debacle and the embarrassing lingerie modeling, this plan is definitely going to make him say the word “peanut butter cups” and lose the bet. Max isn’t back from his hang out with Tony, so I make sure to get everything right before he gets here. He’s not the only one that can be naked in the kitchen. Okay, so I’m not brave enough to be fully naked with Max. I do have on a thong and a black and white apron, but really, an apron and thong leave nothing to the imagination. My assets are hanging out. If it wasn’t for the heater being on, my butt would be called an assicle by now.

As I’m bending over the stove to get my buns from the oven, Max comes walking through the door.

“Breezy, I’m . . . ho . . . holy butt cheeks.”

I feel my face warming up, and a smile sliding across my face. I stand up holding the sticky buns and grin at him.

“Hey, Max, I was wondering if you could help me handle my buns. They need some white coating.”

“Excuse me?” He’s wearing a white v neck t-shirt, but for some reason, he’s pulling on it like it’s a turtle neck.

“My buns, they need some white sticky coating,” I giggle.

I’m really starting to enjoy the innuendo game
.

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

“No, I’m serious. Will you help me coat my buns?”

He blanches. “Maybe you should go put some clothes on.”

“Why? I’m not naked.”

“You might as well be. You can’t stand in the kitchen with your ass cheeks flashing me like that with no bra on. It’s just not right.”

“I’m covered. See the apron fully covers my fun bags.” I bend over, showing him the hint of cleavage popping out the top. “So will you help me frost my buns?”

“I don’t know. This seems like a trick.”

“No trick,” I pick up a spoon coated in powder sugar glaze, and bring it to my lips, moaning as the sweetness slides down my throat. “It’s so thick and milky, and I just love the taste.”

“You’re evil.”

“Want to try it?” I ask innocently.

He gulps, “Yes.”

He comes around the corner and stops when I turn away from him to grab another bowl of icing. My ass is right there, and as I bend down for the bowl that I purposely left on the floor, I hear him clear his throat. Next thing I know, he’s standing right behind me and the bulge I feel against my ass cheek is a clear sign that I’m winning this bet. As I stand up to face him, my heart races. He’s got a wild look in his eyes, and his breathing is matching my heartbeat—fast, erratic, and shaking his whole body.

He stoops down, picks up the spoon I just had in my mouth, and dips it into the icing. As he goes to taste it, a giant glob of icing drops directly between my boobs.

“Your aim is off,” I say laughing.

“Is it? From this angle it looks like my aim is perfect.”

When I reach for a towel to wipe myself clean, he stops my hand. There is an intense passion in his eyes, and that urge to kiss him comes rushing back. Why am I always thinking about kissing Max? Was this bet a stupid idea? Now, instead of not thinking about sex, I’m thinking about it all the time. I always have the same partner, too—Max.

“You wanted me to taste your icing?” A playful smile warms his face. I know I should tell him to stop when I see his head dip down, but my voice box is broken. I’m so sexually frustrated and curious about what Max’s lips feel like, I can’t say no.

Gently his lips brush against my skin. I suck in a breath as his tongue lightly darts across my cleavage, clearing it of the sticky coating. He lifts his head and looks me directly in the eyes. There is a twinkle to them.

“Your frosting tastes almost as good as you do.”

Holy crap, I’m whimpering, and wet. Fucking hell, Max is turning me on. What happened to that fool proof plan of getting Max to cave and lose the bet? He then takes his thumb and immerses it in the frosting. Slowly he brings it up to my mouth and smears a little against my lips.

“Open,” he commands.

My jaw unhinges from my frustrated gritting, and I open my mouth. He sticks his finger inside, and I suck away the frosting until his finger comes out clean. As he retracts his finger, I have an overwhelming urge to suck it back in, so I do, until I’m giving his finger the “special treatment” I usually save for somewhere else.

Max groans until he rips his finger from my mouth. His hand splays my hip, and he pushes me backward until my back is against the kitchen wall and his mouth is two inches away from mine. “Three months of foreplay. Three months of you teasing my dick. I can’t take it anymore, Breezy. I have to know what it’s like to kiss you.”

My eyes widen, and when my mouth opens to protest, his lips come crashing down onto mine.
Holy monkey balls!
Max is actually kissing me!
My entire body ignites into flames. Max’s lips have created a shit storm of mixed feelings, and most of them have pooled directly between my legs. When my mouth opens slightly, his tongue darts in and plays a wicked tango with my own. Max’s hand grips my waist, and before I know what I’m doing, I direct it to the knot on my back. I’m not in control here. Who is this woman kissing Max right now?

Max pulls away from me for a second and gives me a questioning look. “Are you sure?”

“Do you want me to change my mind?”

He shakes his head and goes back to kissing me. He breaks free of the kiss long enough to move the apron over my head and throw it onto the kitchen floor. His hands trace over my nipples, gripping and gently stroking them with the pads of his thumb and pointer fingers.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers. His lips move from my lips, down my neck, and perch against my chest. “I give in. You can have your damn puppy.” Then he sucks my nipple into his mouth. I moan in appreciation.

“Max, we shouldn’t . . .” my voice turns into a hiss when his fingers curl around the edge of my thong, ripping them apart.

“There you go damaging my underwear again,” I laugh.

Max doesn’t say a word. Every inch of my exposed skin from my chest to my belly button is explored with fluttery, light, kisses. The lower he goes, the more my body responds. He spreads my legs and gets on both of his knees. He looks up at me for a split second as if he’s searching for permission. When I don’t say anything, he dives in. His tongue flicks across my clit. I suck my bottom lip into my mouth to keep from howling. My hands find sanctuary within the roots of his hair, and I tug him against me until he’s buried within my folds. Occasionally, he looks up to smile. He does this right before one of his digits finds its way inside me and maneuvers into my g-spot.

“Fuuuuck,” I hiss. “Max, that feels so damn good.”

I’m totally powerless against Max right now. A little voice in the back of my head says this is wrong and we should stop, but I’m pretty sure the horny part of me now has her tied up in a back room somewhere and is forcing her to watch Max pleasure me.

“Breezy, I want you to come on my tongue,” he orders as he rakes his teeth against my clit and ravages the inside of me with his fingers. As they work in unison, I feel my climax building. When it finally hits, I’m screaming Max’s name and thrashing about in pure ecstasy. I try to push him away. The pleasure is an overstimulation I can’t handle. My head is spinning, and I don’t even feel when I’m lifted off the floor and carried towards my bedroom.

Max gently lays me on the bed. I watch greedily as he removes his shirt, pants, and underwear. His erection is stiff and ready. My hand curls around it, and I lightly stroke him back and forth, guiding him towards me.

“Breezy, please don’t tell me to stop.”

“I won’t,” I whisper. I know I want this just as much as he does. Max’s weight covers the top of me. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth as he nudges my legs apart and glides inside me.

“Fuck, Breezy. You feel so damn good. It’s everything I imagined.”

I’ve never had sex without a condom before, but feeling Max’s skin inside me has to be the best feeling I’ve ever felt in my life. His fluid movements, I meet with my own, thrusting my hips up and down to create more friction. He grabs my leg and throws it over his shoulder, making his penetration go even deeper. The moment I feel it, I’m moaning.

Tears appear in my eyes. I’ve never felt this way before. Every movement is precise; every caress strategically placed. The entire time we are looking into each other’s eyes. It almost feels like he’s looking straight into my soul. The weirdest sensation takes over me. On the tip of my tongue are the words I’ve only said to Travis. Instead of screaming
I love you
, I bite on my lip, hoping the strange feeling will go away and the tears will retract. Periodically he dips in and tastes my lips.

His hands cover my own, and I feel his fingers slide into the spaces between mine until he’s gripping me tightly. It’s an intimate gesture and has me on the verge of tears. He starts moving faster. Each time he thrusts, both of us make the same sound. Everything is so intense and overwhelming. This is Max—my best friend. I shouldn’t be feeling this way towards him. I don’t understand any of this. I’m having the most mind-blowing sex of my life right now, and I’m two seconds away from bawling my eyes out. What’s wrong with me? Why am I feeling this way? It’s just sex, so why am I worried that this is going to change everything?

“Are you okay?” he asks concerned.

I nod and bite on the inside of my mouth until I draw blood.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
That little voice inside my head screams. Luckily, the horny side of me is beating her down with a baseball bat.